


Like You Wanna Be Loved

by orphan_account



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Fluff, Loki Feels, Loki Needs a Hug, M/M, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Warning: Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4219089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's interesting, the way things change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Neither one can pinpoint exactly how or why it started. 

When, they both know exactly. It was a night in late December. Tony was still awake at some unholy hour, because Pepper wasn't around to remind him to go to bed and he was in the middle of a project and Tony Stark doesn't need sleep when he's got a coffee machine anyway. Loki, no doubt aided by some kind of crazy alien magic, managed to find his way in undetected by JARVIS. Tony was kind of freaked out at first, though he'd be the last person to admit it. The suit had some kinks he hadn't quite managed to work out yet and  _god damn_ he just had that window fixed, but Loki didn't look like he was here for a fight. He was a lot less threatening, anyway, without the armour and the crazy reindeer helmet. So Tony, albeit cautiously, poured him a drink and Loki seemed... borderline pleasant. He needed Stark's help, he said. Some form of technological glitch on his end, that apparently only the 'man of iron' could fix. That was about as far as they got before Tony was completely hammered and, however reluctantly, Loki saw fit to put him to bed. The next thing Tony knew, he was in a pool of his own sweat, with two fistfuls of long black hair and Loki buried balls-deep in his ass. 

After that, it became a semi-regular occurrence. Loki shows up, Tony gets completely hammered, they fuck like rabbits until sunrise. Sometimes Loki will hang around long enough for Tony to pass out but he's always gone without a trace when he wakes up again. Sometimes they talk a little about nothing too meaningful - booze or science or heck, even the weather. Other times - the times when Loki's looking a bit worse for wear, like he hasn't slept in a few days or like somebody's knocked him around a little - they get straight into it without so much as a 'hello' being exchanged. Tony's not exactly sure what Loki's deal is or hell, even what his own deal is. He's entertained the idea that the trickster is trying to get something out of him, some kind of information. Or maybe its some kind of mind-control thing, since the arc reactor so obviously stopped the magical glow stick of doom from doing what it was supposed. But Tony's head is as clear as it gets, and surely if Loki was trying to get something out of him he'd have done it by now, considering it's been a good two months since they started fucking. Besides which, he never sticks around long enough to get Tony to talk. Until he does. 

It's Tony who asks. They're both lying, out of breath and sweat-sodden side by side on Tony's bed. It's one of those days where Loki turned up with a split lip and a black eye and didn't want to bother with pleasantries. When Loki gets up so he can get dressed and leave, Tony grabs his arm. The flesh is smooth, silky soft, flushed pink from warmth. Curious green eyes meet intoxicated brown and Tony smiles. 

"Why don't you stay?" he asks. 

"Stay?" it's the first time Loki's spoken all night and he even  _sounds_ bad, like his throat is dry. 

"Here. Spend the night with me," Tony asks. 

"Why?" Loki's made no attempt to throw Tony's hand off and as far as he's concerned, that's a good sign. 

"Why not?" is Tony's reply, and that makes Loki laugh a little. 

"So sharp-witted, Stark," he says. He still looks uncertain, but after a few seconds, he lays back down and allows Tony to curl against his chest and close his eyes. A few more seconds and Tony feels the warm weight of an arm across his torso and long lean legs coming up to intertwine with his own. Tony's pretty sure he falls asleep first, but that's okay because it's nice to fall asleep in a sweet-smelling embrace instead of a big, empty bed. 

* * *

Loki's gone again by the time Tony wakes up which, incidentally, it's one in the afternoon. This time it's different though. Before, you'd never know another person had been in the apartment. Now, a vaguely honey-like smell clings to the sheets on the other side of the bed and the pillow is decorated by a few stray strands of black hair. For a minute, it takes Tony's pounding head to work out why; last night, as every night with Loki is, was a booze-fuelled blur. Slowly, it comes back to him. 

_Loki slept here. And I asked him too._

"Fuck," he says it out loud, though aside from JARVIS nobody can hear him. 

_Must've been the Jack Daniels talking._

 


	2. Chapter Two

Loki sleeping over after their little rendezvous becomes a commonality. Generally, Loki wakes up first, at which point he'll get dressed and occupy himself with a book until Tony manages to rouse himself out of unconsciousness. Sometimes, though - very, very rarely - Tony will wake first, and then he'll head down to work on something he's got going or he'll watch bad morning TV or check what the papers are saying about him. Or he'll simply stay in bed and watch Loki sleeping. It's a sight to behold, as far as Tony's concerned. He's aware that he himself is not the most pretty of sleepers, he's a sprawler and an occasional drooler and that's not a good look on anybody. Loki's quite the opposite; even in sleep he manages to maintain that haughty elegance that Tony figures he was taught, growing up as royalty. It's softer, though. Muted. The arrogance and the grandeur and the general  _I'm a total basket case_ vibe melts away. The usually swept-back hair falls in soft tendrils around his face, the soft lips are slightly parted. Tony acknowledged from the start that Loki is a damn good looking guy, but when he's asleep he's straight-up beautiful. 

"You know, Stark, it really  _is_ somewhat unnerving that you insist upon watching me sleep," Loki's silky voice startles Tony. Green eyes flutter open and Loki smiles - not that  _I'm smarter than you and you better remember that_ smirk. A genuine smile, one that says Loki's still sleepy but he's all sex-satisfied and he's happy about it, and Christ if that's not gorgeous. Tony's speechless for a second, before he clears his throat.  _  
_

"Good morning to you too, asshole," he replies, shoving Loki's shoulder lightly. "You want some coffee?" 

"Not today, Stark," Loki sits up, stretches out like a cat. He's all tight, pale skin and lean sinew and it makes Tony's breath catch in his throat to watch. "I really must be on my way." 

"So early?" it slips out before Tony can stop it - he's grown accustomed to Loki at least staying for coffee and breakfast. Loki smirks there, amused. 

"This bothers you?" he taunts, stepping into his leather trousers. Tony laughs there. 

"No. Of course not," he says, and it's not entirely the truth. "Just wondering where you have to be that's so much more exciting than the offer of amazing morning sex with none other than Tony Stark?" 

"Was last night not enough for you, you shameless thing?" Loki quirks one eyebrow upwards. Tony shrugs, stands up and stretches in a way that deliberately shows off rather a lot of toned body. Loki's breath hitches, and he swallows deeply. "I'll confess to you Stark, it's incredibly tempting. You're quite right, actually. The offer of a morning in bed with you is  _abundantly_ more exciting. But I have important business to attend to so, alas, your lust will have to wait until next time." 

Tony's tempted to ask about the 'important business', but he shrugs off the notion. He decides as long as Loki's not planning another Earth invasion, he doesn't need to know. And even if he  _was_ planning another invasion, how the hell is Tony supposed to pass that information onto SHIELD? Call Fury and tell him  _"so, I let Loki fuck my brains out last night and boy oh boy are you gonna love what he told me afterwards."_  Somehow he can't see Director Sunshine-And-Light appreciating that.Not that he thinks Loki would tell him even if he did ask. He's incredibly private and anyway, they don't talk about personal crap like that. So Tony bites his tongue, turns his back and pulls on his boxers in the most seductive way that one can put  _on_ clothes. He hears Loki sigh heavily and he crosses the room to place his hands lightly on Tony's waist. It's almost disturbing that the hands that have killed hundreds, the hands that once hurled Tony out of a window to would-be-certain death, can be so tender, so affectionate. 

"I'll come back soon," Loki whispers, snaking his arms around Tony's torso to pull the shorter back to his chest.  

"You better had," Tony replies as if he's kidding around, but he finds he actually means it. 

"I promise," Loki leans down to tug Tony's earlobe gently with his teeth. "Until next time, clever thing." The cool breath tickles Tony's ear in a not-totally-unpleasant way. And then, all in an instant, the warmth of the embrace is gone and Loki has disappeared.  

* * *

 Tony makes himself a mug of hot, strong coffee and locks himself away in his workshop to tinker with the suit. It's good for him, to have something like this to focus on. It keeps him occupied, and away from drinking too copious an amount. It also helps him to keep his mind off Loki - not that his mind is _on_ Loki all that often. But every so often, he finds himself thinking about the previous night and he has to take ten minutes to deal with the rager it inevitably brings. And on even rarer occasion he finds himself thinking about how he sometimes catches Loki looking at him like he thinks Tony is the most fascinating thing in the whole damn universe, or the way that Loki calls him  _'clever thing'_  when they have a tender moment,whispers it like its a special secret just for them. At those moments, Tony has to take a cigarette break and try to clear up his head. 

Late in the afternoon, JARVIS cuts through Tony's uninterrupted working streak. 

"Sir, you have a phone call." 

"If it's SHIELD, tell 'em I'm in a meeting," Tony doesn't stop what he's doing. 

"It's Mr Banner, sir," is the AIs response. Tony pauses then. He hasn't heard from Bruce in a while now, and that kind of sucks. Of all the Avengers, Bruce is the least annoying. He's not full of himself like Thor and he's not miserable like Natasha and he's not a wise-ass like Barton and he's not too much of a do-gooder like Steve. He's down to earth and he knows about science and his general placidity is probably a good calming influence on Tony sometimes. Plus, the fact he's calling probably means he's onto something good. 

"Okay, I'll take it," he decides, putting down his tools and stretching out his aching fingers. There's a soft crackling sound then. 

"Hello? Tony?" Banner's soothing voice fills the room. 

"Hey, big guy. How's it going?" Tony replies. Banner gives a small laugh there that is somewhere like nervousness and excitement. 

"Good. Great, actually. Really great," and he sounds like he genuinely means it. "Listen, I have some news and I think it's going to be really exciting for you." 

"I'm all ears," Tony says, intrigued. 

"I've kind of had a huge breakthrough with some research," Banner informs him. "And I think it could really help with developing the arc reactor. I could drop by some day soon and we can talk about it?" 

"That would be fantastic," Tony agrees. Banner was right - this is exciting. He's almost there with the reactor. Almost. It's almost perfect. He just needs that one little push forwards, but he seems to have hit a plateau as far as his own research is concerned. He's in a frustrating situation where he's trying everything he can think of and none of it seems to work. Still, Loki seems to find the reactor fascinating enough - often sliding his fingers over it, pressing kisses to it, just staring at it. He asked about it the first time he saw it and Tony explained it very loosely - that it powers an electromagnet that's keeping him alive. He didn't go into any immense detail, because he's pretty sure that falls under the umbrella of 'personal crap' and they don't do that. 

"Damn it, stop thinking about him," he mutters. 

"I'm sorry, what?" Banner was mid-flow, and Tony realises too late that he interrupted him. 

"Just uh... talking to myself," it's not exactly a lie. "That all sounds great, Doc. When's the soonest you can be here?" 

"I can be in New York by Thursday afternoon," Banner almost sounds like a child at Christmastime. 

"It's a date then," Tony himself is grinning like a cat that got the cream. 

Thursday. Four days from now.

Thursday is promising to be a good day. 

 


	3. Chapter Three

It's only two days before Tony sees Loki again. 

He finds the demigod in the bar, sitting with his elbows resting on the armrests of the chair, fingers arched in front of his face, eyes closed. He's lost in thought, but he also looks kinda really angry and that scares the crap out of Tony. The last time Loki looked  _this_ pissed off, Tony got a one-way ticket to the sidewalk via the window and it's not a trip he's eager to make again. But Loki's face softens just a tiny bit when he hears Tony in the room, and the ghost of a smile teases his lips. His eyes don't open until Tony hands him a drink. He takes it all in one swig, then gets to his feet to pour another. That one's gone as quickly as the first, and Tony raises his eyebrows. 

"Easy there, big fella. What are you, trying to drown yourself?" he quips, and Loki looks decidedly unimpressed. 

"Turn around and bend over," is the reply Tony gets, and he's more than a little surprised at its abruptness. 

"Excuse me?" he forces out and Loki sighs, rolls his eyes like a parent with a severely annoying child. 

"I want you to turn around and bend over so I can fuck you until my mind has cleared. Do you understand?" Loki practically snarls it, and Tony swallows. He was too busy falling to actually notice last time, but Loki is  _damn_ sexy when he's angry. 

"Aye aye, captain," he contemplates clicking his heels and saluting sarcastically, but he can see Loki's in no mood. Instead, he does as he's asked and turns, bending at the hip and bracing himself against the bar with outstretched hands. It's a little worrying, turning his back to Loki. Despite the almost-three-months of fucking with no immediately obvious ulterior motive, Tony still doesn't really  _trust_ the guy. Not being able to see him makes Tony feel exposed, vulnerable. Loki could plunge a knife in his back or snap his neck like a twig at any second. Under other circumstances, he's probably do both. As it is, he simply trails his hands - those teasing, skilled hands - down the sides of Tony's torso, pausing momentarily at his hips before sliding both pants and boxers down with one smooth motion. He makes a quiet noise of appreciation, and gives a small laugh when his fingers creep around to find Tony's semi. 

"My, my, Stark. Already?" his voice is silky, and  _fuck_ that just turns Tony on even more. "I've barely even touched you." 

 "Shut up, asshole," Tony growls, because he wants Loki to stop teasing and just get on with it. To further communicate that, he bends even further, but Loki doesn't seem to take the hint. 

"You'd do well not to cross me tonight, Stark," it's seductive rather than aggressive. "I can and I will ensure that you cannot walk straight for a week." 

Long, cool fingers creep their way under Tony's tee-shirt, fingernails scratching hard enough to leave a mark, but not quite hard enough to draw blood. Tony sucks in a breath through his teeth when the fingers reach to tweak his nipples. 

"You gonna make good on that? Or are you all talk?" it's forced out through gritted teeth - in pleasure, rather than pain, and Loki laughs, extracts one hand. There's a jangle of belt buckle and a swish of fabric, and Tony finds himself amazed that Loki can do that so efficiently with one hand. Apparently the theme of Asgardian fashion is  _complicated,_ and although he's getting better, Tony still takes a while to get Loki's pants off with all the lacing and the buckles. Loki seems to find that highly amusing - seems to take a sick pleasure in watching Tony struggle, which is weird. But he's Loki, and the guy's gotta be a contender for Weirdo of the Century. 

"O-oh," Tony's train of thought is interrupted by the intrusion of a slicked up finger. It's quick, careless, completely lacking in passion and enthusiasm. Foreplay is a mere formality for them, they only do the bare minimum necessary so that it doesn't hurt  _too_ much for Tony. Anything else is far too personal, far too intimate. This is sex for the sake of sex, not some god damn relationship. It's the same reason they don't kiss each other on the lips. 

When Loki's satisfied that Tony is sufficiently prepped, he pulls his fingers out, and Tony whimpers at their absence. Using both hand's on the shorter's hips for leverage, Loki aligns himself and, with fingers that bite into creamy flesh and a groan muffled by teeth clamped over his bottom lip, pushes himself inside of Tony's willing body. The latter gasps, grips the bar so hard his knuckles turn white. With only a couple of thrusts, Loki manages to find his sweet spot, and he arches his back with a groan.

"Fuck," he hisses. "Right there, Loki. Jesus. Fuck."

"Good boy," is the whispered reply, and those _god damn_ fingernails are pushing his tee-shirt up his already sweat-soaked back, leaving shallow grooves on either side of his spine as one hand slides up towards his neck. The other creeps forwards, fingers enclosing his manhood and sliding up and down in that expert way that Loki has. Tony's hissing a constant stream of curses through his teeth, eyes squeezed tight shut and every muscle in his arms straining with the effort of staying propped up. When Loki reaches the base of Tony's neck, he drags his nails back down hard, and Tony feels beads of blood forming. He whimpers at that, which Loki seems to like because he picks up the pace with both his hips and his hand. He leans forwards and  _licks_ the trail of blood he left down Tony's back and fuck, Tony should not enjoy that as much as he does. 

"Fucking hell," Tony chokes out. "You fucking crazy bastard. Fuck! Jesus." 

"You say that as if you don't relish it," Loki's lips, the vibration of that beautiful voice, against Tony's skin are almost too much. "My goodness, Stark, you really are... exquisite." 

The last word is choked, breathy because Tony manages to think something other than  _fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_ for long enough to clench every muscle in his lower body tight. Loki's hand leaves his cock, comes up to pull Tony's head up by his hair. He leans over, whispers in Tony's ear.

"Touch yourself for me, you filthy shameless thing," it's accompanied by a small kiss on the neck, right below the earlobe, and Tony's more than happy to oblige. He almost thinks that moving one arm will make him fall forwards, but Loki's strong hands on his waist hold him up firmly. He begins to stroke himself, not as skilled at it as Loki is but  _fuck_ when the demigod is hilt-deep in Tony's ass that doesn't even matter. 

Tony cums first, with a strangled shout of Loki's name and a grip so tight on the bar that he's sure the fingers on his left hand will break. Loki follows soon after, much more dignified and princely in his approach, simply squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Just a second after, he uses both hands on Tony's hips to shove him away harshly. 

Tony stumbles, nearly hits his nose on the bar. 

"That bad, huh?" he mutters, without turning around. Loki sighs, and Tony can hear him getting dressed. 

" _You_ were extraordinary, actually," Loki turns Tony around gently, starts to clean him off with a napkin. "Unfortunately, it seems even the best of lays isn't going to straighten my mind tonight. Remove your shirt." 

Tony peels his tee-shirt off, and Loki turns him back around to wipe away the blood. One of the plethora of weird things about Loki is that he seems to  _like_ taking care of Tony after they fuck. During the sex, he's as rough as anyone Tony's ever been with. Rougher than most. More often than not, Tony's covered in bruises the morning after. Immediately afterwards, its as if he turns into a completely different person. He seems to get some kind of pleasure from wiping Tony down, tending to any open cuts he might be left with. Tony supposes it's the kind of gentlemanliness that comes with being raised as royalty, but it's almost unnerving coming from Loki. 

"Something's really biting you tonight, isn't it?" it's not really a question, more an observation. Crazy as Loki is, it's not likely this kind of irritation comes from nowhere. He's so seething that his hands shake while he strokes a dampened bar cloth down Tony's shredded back. He stops, sighs. 

"I wish sometimes that..." Loki begins. His voice breaks on the last word and he trails off. Tony doesn't know what to do or say, so he does nothing. After a long moment, Loki lets out a deep breath and pulls Tony back against his chest. 

"Let's go to bed, clever thing," he says it into Tony's hair, and Tony tells himself that the drop of moisture he feels on his scalp is  _not_ a tear. "I'm simply exhausted." 

"Right. Yeah. Bed. Good idea," Tony agrees, because going to bed means going to sleep, and going to sleep means they don't have to pay attention to the awkwardness of Loki's brief display of emotion. 

* * *

 

Despite saying he was exhausted, Loki doesn't seem to sleep all that much. 

Every time Tony wakes up through the night, Loki is awake too, staring at the ceiling, left arm outstretched so he can keep his hand on top of Tony's. When Tony wakes in the morning, he finds Loki in a chair beside the bed, fully dressed, hair brushed back, with a book open in his lap. He's not reading it, hasn't even gotten further than the first couple of pages. Instead he's staring at Tony intently, and it's a strange combination of sweet and creepy. Tony forces a weak grin. 

"I thought it was unnerving to watch people sleep," he says. Loki simply shrugs. 

"Forgive me," he says, making a motion with his hand like he's brushing the matter aside. "Are you aware that you smile in your sleep?" 

"Only when I have good dreams," Tony shrugs. He's been told that before, several times and it didn't take him too long to make the link. 

"What were you dreaming about?" Loki wants to know, and Tony finds himself hesitant to say. 

He'd been dreaming about Pepper. She wasn't doing anything in particular. Just... being Pepper. It crushed Tony when she left, told him she _'just couldn't do it any more'_ and then packed up all her shit and moved out that same night. The week that followed her departing was a blur of sleazy clubs and booze and coke and hookers and cheap motels. The only thing that keeps him grounded is the relatively frequent dreams he has about her, his unconscious mind fooling him that it's the good old days again, for a few hours at least.

For some reason, he feels he can't tell Loki that. Maybe because he thinks the trickster would scoff, mock him for being so sentimental. Or maybe because that's personal crap, and that's not somewhere he wants to go. Or maybe it's something else, something he can't pinpoint right now. Realizing Loki is still waiting for an answer, Tony shrugs.

"Don't remember," he lies, stretching and standing, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. "It was good, though."

He wanders through to the kitchen, Loki close behind, and pours two cups of coffee. Loki takes it black and overly sweetened. He's a real sweet tooth, Tony's discovered. He likes lots of sugar in his coffee and honey on his toast and he was highly impressed with the bubblegum flavoured lube he found when rifling through Tony's drawers one evening. He even smells subtly sweet, of honey and something else that Tony can't quite put his finger on. It's almost feminine, and yet on Loki, it's just all the more alluring. 

* * *

He leaves soon after breakfast, with the same excuse of  _important business to attend to._

"I shall return shortly, I promise," he plants a kiss on Tony's forehead. "I'll see you again, Anthony." 

It's only a couple of hours later that Tony realises. 

For the first time since they met, Loki used his first name. 

 


	4. Chapter Four

For the first time since this... thing started, Loki turns up within twenty-four hours of disappearing. 

Tony's taking a smoke break, and it's a clear night so he thought  _what the hell_ and has positioned himself on the roof. Tony likes it up here; there are fewer distractions, so it's a good place for him to clear his head. And, he supposes, the view you get of the city is actually pretty nice from up here. If you're into that kind of sappy, sentimental shit. He doesn't even notice that Loki's  _there_ until the cigarette is plucked from between his fingers, and he turns to see him taking a long drag. Tony's not sure if they have cigarettes in space but if they don't, they should, because Loki with a cancer-stick between his lips just looks  _right_ somehow. He exhales the smoke without opening his eyes, a trail of blue-grey curling up and disappearing into the night, before he hands the cig back to Tony. He looks rough, Tony observes, tired. Even more so than he had when he left this morning. 

"Uh... are you okay?" Tony wouldn't usually ask because that's definitely  _personal crap,_ but last time Loki looked this fried a shit ton of people ended up dead. He figures it's best to check. Loki doesn't answer, just shushes Tony and leans back against the wall behind them. It's not uncommon that Loki has no time for chit-chat, but this awkward silence is new and uncomfortable, so Tony tries to concentrate on his cigarette instead. When that's gone and ground under his heel, he's about to suggest that they go inside but the wind is knocked out of him suddenly and he finds himself encircled by lean, strong arms and with a face full of green silky shirt. It takes a second for him to register Loki is  _hugging_ him, and the absurdity of it almost makes Tony panic. The closest they've got to hugging before is loose and impersonal post-fuck cuddles, but now Loki is hanging onto Tony for dear life, like he really means it. Tony contemplates worming his way out, trying to turn it into a sexual thing. But he can't see that going down too well and anyway, it's not totally unpleasant. There's that never-fading  _Loki_ smell and his arms are warm against the cold bite of the air. So instead Tony lifts his own arms and, albeit awkwardly, wraps them around Loki in return. 

_I guess this answers my question._ Tony thinks, as Loki squeezes him tighter, inhales deeply as if he's trying to breathe Tony's hair in. He's most definitely  _not_ okay and Tony doesn't know whether to be scared or concerned. He settles on the former because, as a rule, Tony Stark doesn't  _do_ concerned, not unless it's for someone he really cares about. Like himself. Or Pepper. Not psychopath demigods who are, essentially, the enemy and just happen to be fantastic in the sack. 

It can only be two minutes they stand in silence, maybe three tops, but it drags out for what feels like hours until Loki speaks. 

"I had to see you again," he says it so matter-of-factly that they could be in a board meeting, not locked in the worlds most awkward embrace. 

"Oh yeah? That hot for me, huh?" Tony attempts to make a joke of the situation, cause that's what he does best. Loki chuckles weakly, and Tony swallows. "How about we go inside and get a drink?" 

"One of the best ideas you've ever had," Loki releases Tony as quickly as he grabbed him, and he leads the way as if this is his place. 

He's already pouring two drinks when Tony gets there. He slides one across the bar like he's done it a million times before and then knocks back the one in his hand - straight whiskey, and a large one at that - like it's tap water. Tony sighs, sips his own drink. Something's really wrong, he can tell. If not for the bizarrely affectionate, if a little erratic, way that Loki is acting, from his damn outward appearance. He always looks so put together, prides himself on it. But tonight he looks... dishevelled, for want of a better word. His hair is starting to fall out of its usual combed back style, some strands sticking up as if Loki's been running his fingers through it. His clothes are as casual as they get - loose black trousers and a baggy green shirt that isn't even tucked in. He's even paler than usual - something Tony didn't think possible - and that only accentuates the dark circles underneath his eyes. 

"Hey," Tony says it as softly as he can manage. "What's eating you, big guy?" 

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," it's not spat, like an insult. It's sounds... dejected. Defeated. Desperate. 

"Try me," Tony's trying to be delicate, even contemplates reaching out to touch Loki's arm. He's uncomfortable because he can tell they're definitely about to enter the realm of personal and he's not sure he's ready for that yet.  _  
_

"It's not even about the throne," it tumbles out of Loki's lips like a waterfall, and his eyes are closed like it's painful for him to say. "Not all of it, at the very least. Nothing was ever good enough for him. Nothing I did, nothing I said. Even when we were children, he heaped all his glories upon Thor and I went ignored, unattended to, unloved. No achievement was ever enough because Thor inevitably could do the same thing in half the time." Loki turns his back, begins to pace. "He'd killed hundreds of thousands before I could even walk. I have no doubts he'd have come to Midgard himself long before I did had he thought that he could gain something from it or if you had done something to cross him. And Thor... damn  _fucking_ Thor..." Loki stops, his hands clenching into tight fists. "He's lauded as a hero because he uses his newfound reign to spare me the axe. And I wish sometimes... I wish that it was easier to hate him but it isn't. I can't hate him."  _  
_

He whips round, meets Tony's eyes. 

"Why can't I hate him, Anthony?" 

Tony blinks, startled by the outburst. He figured that Loki's power-craziness came from some kind of jealousy, but didn't realise it ran this damn deep. There's no justification for what Loki did last time he came to earth, but this at least explains it a little. Tony kicks himself for not figuring out sooner. Odin is not only the god of gods, he's a celebrated war hero. And that doesn't happen without slaughtering a few thousand innocents - most of them probably civilians - on the way. Loki was following Daddy's example, and it had all backfired massively. Tony swallows deeply. He's not good at this whole 'advice' thing. 

"Listen, Loki, I'm sure your dad..." he begins, but he's cut off by a sharp slap across the face that knocks him off his feet. Loki's crossed the room in that lightning-fast way that he does, and now he's dragging Tony up by the hair, pinning him against the wall. 

"He is  _not_ my father," he snarls. "And I would warn you to be careful what you are  _sure_ about. You don't know a damn thing, Stark. Not a damn thing." 

 "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Jeez. Just calm down, honey, okay?" the 'honey' slips out without Tony meaning it to, but he rolls with it, placing his hands on Loki's shoulders, trying not to wince too hard but Loki is still pulling his hair and it fucking  _hurts._ Not in a good way either. The vice grip that is threatening to scalp him loosens by a fraction and the other hand comes up to cradle Tony's face, tilt his head back slightly. 

"You know, Anthony, you are  _exquisitely_ pretty when you're frightened," he breathes, thoughtfully. If that's the case, Tony must be absolutely _gorgeous_ right now because Loki is scaring the shit out of him. How can the guy go from almost crying about Daddy to shaking with rage to stroking and complimenting Tony in such a short time? _Oh right. He's an emotionally disturbed psychopath._ The thought makes his skin crawl, given the current situation. The hand on his jaw is gentle, a mere caress, but Tony knows full well that Loki could snap his neck right now if he really wanted to. But it's Tony Stark, and Tony Stark does not admit defeat. 

"Yeah well, you're pretty damn sexy when you're angry," he says, and it sounds weaker than he expected. "If it's any consolation, I sort of get it. My dad's an ass too, nothing I did was ever good enough for him either." 

The hand from his hair drops, landing on his hip. Loki sighs and presses his lips to Tony's neck. 

"I don't think we're at all that different are we? You and I?" he whispers. 

"No," Tony admits, and if Fury ever heard him confess that he'd probably have his ass whooped. But it's just the two of them now, and  _damn_ the gentle way Loki is kissing his neck is doing sinful things to him. "No, I don't think we are."

"In a different life, perhaps, you and I could've been..." Loki doesn't finish the sentence, and Tony's glad of that. He's terrified of what he might've said. That sounded kind of... romantic, and he never even entertained that Loki might develop _feelings_ for him. Crap, he never entertained that Loki even  _has_ feelings. 

"Friends?" Tony finishes for him, and he tries to ignore how sad Loki's sigh sounds. 

"Friends," he agrees, though Tony can tell his heart isn't in it. He comes up, kisses Tony's forehead with equal tenderness. His lips linger for longer than they really need to, and Tony finds himself thinking  _oh, fuck it._

He tilts his head upwards, and kisses Loki square on the lips. 


End file.
